It’s finals season. That time of the year where eyes sink, moods drop, and grades swing on the pendulum of our professor’s good graces. Many of us will slink across the library lugging laptops, textbooks, and hope that things actually pull through. During this strenuous time, I feel like my mind roams everywhere. I spend most of my day in the library, with countless hours dedicated to my class routine. Unfortunately, my mind cannot run this hard for the entire day, so I like to take the occasional mini-sabbatical to ease my mind. In the following poems, I describe the slow emotional decay I witness in the midst of this dreadful season.
1.
I'm a sleep walker
In my dreams I wander across starry skies
Ducking under the clouds dripping longheld tears
The wind wails its sorrow
I shiver at the feeling and the clouds rain down from my eyes
And the dark night consumes the sight of my fears
I’m a sleep talker
But my only companion is the lonely moon
Her replies emit no sound yet she speaks to me
Light glimmers above her craters
So I sing their praises to her appealing tune
My voice filling the dark night's air like a cacophony
Upon hearing my song, she laughs back at me
And I am alone again in the deep black sea
The waves of the night run past my body
Still slow yet ebbing on hopefully
I wave at ancient trees that sway their branches back at me
And smile at the flowers which preserve their modesty
They all wait for the sun, aching to be relieved of the night's long sheet
Yet I run away from the sun, hoping to find the ends of the welcoming deep
2.
Trapped in a loud silence
Surrounded by people yet trapped in space
A room so empty that I’m floating endlessly
A vapid existence purely pointless in nature
Distant bodies close figures, none can be told a part
Soft voices, loud thoughts
Disgust bubbles in my throat
Till bitterness spills from my lips
Comfortably numb to the insipidity
Chilled by the feel of a space oddity
A stream of consciousness
I can only float where it flows
Drifting me past the waves of sanity
The water ripples while they settle slowly
3.
Slipping into the gray void
A winding reel of remnant feelings
I watch the film with glassy eyes
Not wet with tears of pain
But soaked with the weight of disconnect
Dragged down by my every breath
I languish in my own puddle
Swimming in self loathing
Wading through false care
Often times, poetry is an easy release, something I can pour into without losing too much. It’s quite important to allow yourself some sort of enjoyment during these trying times, so make sure to grant yourself the joy you deserve. In your moments of leisure, let the mind wander away from calculated formulas, textbook definitions, and next-day-due papers. Sit back, relax, and keep a poem in the pocket.
